Worth of a Promise
by storytellers
Summary: Sequel to Worth of a Man. Life goes on for Enjolras and Grantaire and as might be expected, it doesn't take long before a problem presents itself to stir things up. This time it's in the form of Adrien's little cousin.
1. Chapter 1

**Aithor's note: **This is a sequel to Worth of a Man and, like in the original story, I will have to ask you to suspend disbelief. I am not even trying to pretend this is truthful or realistic in any way. After all, it is the sequel to a fairytale about gypsy magic and true love's kiss. Draw your own conclusions. It is no masterpiece. It is also basically fluff. It was started a while ago as a present for Sythar (and is therefore dedicated to her, love you dear) who wanted to see Adrien and Nicolas arguing. They will indeed do quite a bit of that here. It is based on one-word prompts taken from a random word generator. Let's see what I can make of them.

**1**

**Footstep**

Eugenie-Aurorette Odile Noella Antoinette Enjolras was nine years of age and her parents had died the previous year. Her father had been Adrien Enjolras's second cousin. Since her parents' death she had been living with her mother's sister and her family. In a year she had managed to drive them all insane. Now the family was expecting a new baby and they could no longer be bothered to take care of an orphan who was, on top of all, said to be a terrible brat. Therefore she was now being sent to the only living relatives left who were prepared to take her – Adrien's parents. Her aunt's husband had promised to take her to Paris and no further. Enjolras' mother had taken that as a great excuse to make her son visit under the guise of bringing the child to their country home.

This was what little Nicolas Grantaire had managed to learn from his partner about the little cousin that he was supposed to pick up today and house until he could afford the time to travel to his parents' home. Adrien had arrived with the girl not an hour ago and Nicolas had had the chance to gather some more impressions. She was an ugly little thing and far too scrawny for such a fat and pompous name. Her skin was pale but had none of Adrien's porcelain glow and her hair was a dull brown. Her eyes were a greenish-gray colour that made Nicolas think of the depths of the Saine. She held no resemblance to what he had seen of the Enjolras family at all. Hell, she was more reminiscent of him!

He also learned that she was a fast runner. She thankfully did not posses a loud voice but used what she had to its full capacity. She was in little position to do any real harm to either the house or its inhabitants but she tried very hard. She had run into almost every room and thrown whatever she could find at her hosts before she had slammed the door of the room they had intended for her, almost breaking Nicolas's fingers and still screaming at them that they were stupid and she hated them.

He looked up at Adrien and grinned.

"Charming."

Adrien huffed in irritation.

"I am terribly tempted to lock her in her room. I'm definitely locking _our_ door tonight."

With that vow, he pushed Nicola's wheelchair quite unceremoniously towards the bedroom.

"Hey!" Nicolas gripped the wheels, causing them to screech to a stop. He tilted his head back to raise his eyebrows at the upside-down image of Enjolras. "Can I choose my own direction, please? Or am I just the helpless cripple who doesn't get a say? What if I want to stay in the parlor?"

"If you want to choose your direction, you can bloody well walk," Adrien answered flatly. "Combeferre tells me you can."

Nicolas groaned.

"A few steps at a time, Adrien! Not _actual_ walking."

"A few steps is a few steps. When am I going to see you make them?"

Nicolas twisted around to give him an exasperated look.

"Maybe never. I said I'd try, not that I would work a miracle. Leave me alone, will you?"

"No."

"Right."

He rolled the wheels forcefully backwards. The chair moved, forcing Adrien a few steps back as well. Nicolas grinned.

"Not quite the helpless cripple, I fear. So will you leave me alone or do I run you over?"

"My apologies but you made me swear I would never leave you alone. Don't intend to be run over either."

A shove forward. Nicolas blocked it again and looked up at him once more with an only slightly cynical expression.

"Tired of sharing a bed with a cripple?"

Adrien rolled his eyes.

"Trying to guilt me into submission, are you? That trick's getting old. You know very well why I insist and _I_ know that you know."

Nicolas sighed, losing the sharpness in his expression, and smiled as a peace-offering.

"You never were the patient kind… Some day, Adrien. _Maybe_. I'm working on it but no one ever promised results."

Adrien Enjolras, the newest member of the Parliament devoid of his severe coat and hat looked more like an elven king and no older than nineteen. He pouted for a moment and then sighed. A sigh that acknowledged retreat but never defeat. Adrien rested his elbows on the backrest of the chair and leaned forward, blond curls tickling Nicolas' neck.

"Have it your way, you stubborn sod. I know you only do it to irritate me. See if that works."

Nicolas's chuckle was interrupted by a kiss which was broken a second later.

"So I'll let you go and sit in your parlor then," Adrien said with perfect seriousness. "Far be it from me to deny anyone the freedom of choice. Unless, of course, you've changed your mind…"

Nicolas grinned.

"I think I could be persuaded with a few well-chosen arguments."

"Very well. The parlor is much too cold right now. There is not much to do there. Anyway, you're tired. And you had no intention of going there in the first place – it was only brought up so you could oppose me."

Nicolas laughed.

"Much as it pains me, I can find no holes in your reasoning, fearless leader. Bed it is, then."

"Ah."

Adrien smiled and walked towards their room, leaving Nicolas to follow him. "Look at the state of this!" the blond complained upon entering, indicating the carpet. Much like in all other rooms tonight, a slight redecoration had taken place here. That is to say, their little guest had left smudged mud stains all over, and one particularly clear small muddy footprint. "How did she even manage to drag that much dirt with her?" Adrien muttered sounding rather peeved indeed. "Oh yes, probably because she spent every second when she was not in the fiacre jumping into various puddles!"

"It's just a dirty carpet, Adrien," Nicolas tried to soothe him, once again amused but attempting not to show it. "Mme Moquin will clean it tomorrow."

"I might as well clean it myself while I'm here. No reason making Mme Moquin perform a task I am perfectly capable of performing."

Nicolas very nearly growled.

"Fine. I will allow you to clean carpets all you want tomorrow morning so you can feel on level with the common Parisian worker. But for God's sake don't insist upon doing it now. We won't die from a little mingled dust and water and in any case it will be easier to clean when it's dry. In fact, you would do better to clean yourself instead right now, seeing that you are no less muddy."

Adrien cast an annoyed glance at his once-white shirt and barely-blue vest and even dirtier dark trousers.

"The little brat attempted to kick me the whole time!"

Nicolas felt the smile tugging mercilessly at his lips and laughter babble somewhere in his stomach. Watching Adrien deal with the screaming child with a perfectly cold-marble-statue-like expression and poised and dignified while being at the same time obviously furious and a little disheveled from chasing her around… Well, it had been terribly entertaining. Who would have ever thought anything like this would befall the greatly esteemed hero of the French Republic? But here it was, all this havoc caused by a little girl.

While they were both preparing for bed, his eyes kept getting drawn towards the footprint. It was so small, left by little feet making little footsteps, and it looked so strange in their room that it might as well have been left by some fantastic creature. Perhaps a dwarf, Nicolas thought. A dwarf which had snuck into the bedroom to steal… what? His lover's golden hair? He chuckled to himself.

As Adrien plopped tiredly next to him and rested his head on his shoulder, he closed his eyes thinking that he would probably dream of sulking, shouting, muddy dwarves now. But at least his morning promised to be interesting.

**End Note:** Reviews are gratefully appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** I would appreciate your reviews very much, especially since they are what prompts me to write on. Yes, I'm shopping for attention, thank you for providing it.

**2**

**Premeditation**

Nicolas blinked a little in surprise when the troublesome golden-hair-stealing dwarf from his dream appeared at breakfast in a much neater state than he, and indeed even Adrien, had cared to display. She was fully dressed, washed and combed, her brown strands pulled severely back from her face into a tidy bun. It was an image that contrasted interestingly with the little beast he had witnessed the previous evening. Based on his first impression, he had expected her to come down still dishevelled and muddy and glare at them from under messy locks of hair. No such thing. She was as neat as if she had just come out of the package. Well, at least she still glared. With her lips pressed in a thin line and her eyebrows arched disdainfully over the green-grey eyes. Nicolas found himself grinning instinctively in return. That, of course, made her glare harder and he felt the urge to laugh at the familiarity of the situation. Well, hello there, Enjolras! He fought the chuckle down. How would he explain to the child that he wasn't so much laughing at her but at himself? He was amused by the deep-rooted instinct inside of him which made him grin when he was glared at this way. By God, and he had thought only yesterday that she did not resemble her cousin! It was true that her colours were different and it was easier to call her ugly than pretty if one had to choose between the two but you never knew with children. They changed so much – who was to tell she wouldn't become a beauty in a few years? In her manners, though, he was starting to recognize something of Adrien.

Adrien himself did not give his young relative nearly as much thought or as many looks as his partner. He addressed her once or twice to show courtesy and was answered with a very hostile sort of politeness. This exchange seemed to satisfy them both. At the same time, Nicolas couldn't help but notice that Adrien was going out of his way this morning to be affectionate to him. There was some extra warmth to his lover's smile that Nicolas decided he should thank their little guest for. Rarely did Adrien meet someone impossible enough to make Nicolas Grantaire look easy to deal with by comparison.

After breakfast Enjolras, as was his God-given mission in life, got dressed and went out to take care of the country. And Grantaire, as was _his_ God-given mission in life, set out to make fun of it. He made himself comfortable with a little effort in one of the armchairs in the sitting room, leafed through a few newspapers and picked up a pen and a notebook.

Things had been a lot easier since they had both started working. The fact that Adrien put his political talent and passion to good use for part of the day spared Nicolas the need to feel guilty for taking over the rest of his hours. And having an occupation of his own saved him from feeling like a useless housewife. And, by God, was he having fun being paid to do just what he had always done, what, in fact, he had been often reprimanded for in the years of plotting in the back room of the Musain. They were just reviews. Opinions that attempted to be presented in a way that would elicit a few laughs. Even he wasn't sure he wanted to call it real writing. But people found them amusing and papers were fighting to publish them. And all he had to do was write down what he thought on a particular matter and pad it all with a certain amount of imaginative nonsense. It would seem that now the revolution had come and gone, people were done being solemn and just wanted to laugh. Even Adrien laughed at his scribbles and what higher praise could there be than that?

Things were all right. _Surprisingly_ all right but he was done doubting his luck and expecting disasters at every turn. They'd survived through enough to know they could survive through more if it came. And anyway… 'We may be going in circles around the Sun but that doesn't mean the Universe isn't moving forward along with us and taking us to new places.' Combeferre had written this in a recent paper and Nicolas was for once inclined to agree…

THUD!

He looked up from his notebook which he had been contemplating.

There were fast, small tapping noises and then the first loud sound again. He listened for a while and concluded it was caused by little feet jumping from the fifth step of the main staircase to the floor, then running back up once more and repeating the procedure. Somewhat curious, he left the notebook on the coffee table, got himself in his chair, rolled quietly to the door and opened it a crack.

And there she was, Eugenie-Aurorette WhatHaveYou Enjolras performing that exact routine. One might have assumed she was playing except for the perfect seriousness and determination written on her features. She was already out of breath and a few strands of hair had escaped the tight bun but she still climbed up deliberately and jumped down with the fervour Adrien would have exhibited while forcing royalist forces to surrender. It was a good thing she didn't notice the door was cracked open even though she _did_ look in his direction a few times with a particularly calculating look. And Nicolas realized with bemusement that… Good Lord, she was doing this specifically to irritate him! Once again he wanted to laugh. Won't bloody happen, mon petit mademoiselle. As someone who had endured the noise at the Musain for years… Hell, as someone who had _caused_ a large portion of the noise at the Musain for years, he didn't find noise very disturbing at all. If anything, he missed it. He went back to work with a smirk and was on the third page when the sounds stopped. About two minutes later, the door to the sitting room was opened and closed with excessive care.

Once again Nicolas tried not to laugh as she gradually made her way to him, stopping at every step and glaring just in case. He watched her only out of the corner of his eye and pretended not to notice her.

"What are you writing?" finally came the question when she was standing only half a meter away from where he was sitting.

"A guide on step-jumping for little girls," he said in all seriousness without lifting his eyes from the notebook. There was a pause.

"You were spying on me!" she said indignantly.

"Our hallway is hardly a private area, Mlle."

She pouted and searched for something to say.

"If children make you angry, you shouldn't have gotten one!"

He laughed for real this time. He couldn't help it. It sounded if she was reading a play script but he was messing it all up by not saying the right lines back.

"My dear little lady, do I seem angry at all? Why should I be?"

"I was being noisy. I was disturbing you."

Defiance, challenge, and a little confusion. He smiled.

"I was not disturbed. Did you _mean_ to disturb me?"

"Yes."

Oh, and upfront honesty.

She took a cautious step back but looked at him defiantly. Nicolas made an effort to look apologetic.

"Oh, I'm very sorry. Shall we try again? And this time I will attempt to be positively upset."

Her lips twitched and she relaxed her posture a little, seemingly deciding that he was harmless enough and not going to shout at her in the near future.

"What _are_ you writing?" she asked again.

"My thoughts about some things."

"Why?"

"Because people pay me to."

"Why?"

"Are you going to ask 'why' after every answer I give you? Because there is a much bigger variation of questions and you might want to try some of the rest."

"Which?"

"Well, for example 'who' and 'where' and…" he caught himself and chuckled. "Oh, I see."

"What?"

"All right, all right. I will answer your original question. I have absolutely no idea why anyone would be paying me to read what I think. They just do."

"I can think and I can write. Would anyone pay _me_?"

"Ah, now… They might if your thoughts are entertaining enough but it will also help if you pretend to be a grown man. Unfortunately, republic and all, this is still not a completely fair world."

She came closer, cautiously leaning over his shoulder to look into the notebook.

"'_After all, premeditation is for politicians while we, ordinary people, can sometimes afford to leave it all to our dear old friend Chance_," she read out loud. "What does 'premeditation' mean?"

"It means thinking ahead. Planning."

"And why would you want to go without that?"

"Because often the best things happen when you haven't planned them and if you stop to think too much you might miss your chance. And life has some interesting surprises to offer."

He was thinking of Adrien. No amount of thinking or planning would have brought or kept them together. And yet here they were. He smiled a bit.

"I don't like surprises," Eugenie declared, frowning and wrinkling her nose. "I plan things. I like things happening like I planned them."

"Some of the time maybe that's better. But too much of anything is harmful, including plans. Our plans are not always for the best so perhaps it's not so bad when Fate messes them up a bit."

She shrugged obviously not entirely impressed with his attempt at sounding wise. Oh, but I can guess why you don't like surprises, my dear, he thought. They have all been rather nasty ones for you so far. You're tired of being tossed this way and that and you want to know what will happen so you can prepare. You are a bit like me – you don't dare to simply hope. The difference is that I tend to let things happen without daring to make plans either, or look into tomorrow at all. A fine trio we make – a methodical child, a foolhardy adult and… Adrien, who is a bit of both.

"And what are your plans now?" he asked.

"To grow up," she said with a surprising amount of feeling.

An adult would normally chuckle at such a line spoken by a child and find it adorable but something in her voice was quite serious so he regarded her with the same seriousness.

"Really? You don't like being a child?"

She shook her head. "Children are week."

"Ah… I suppose, in a way that makes sense. But adults are often week too."

"Like you?"

He raised his eyebrows.

"What do you mean?"

"Because you can't walk and you can't do whatever you want."

He laughed.

"Actually, my dear, I can do surprisingly a lot of what I want like this. I'm not complaining."

She scowled.

"You shouldn't call me 'my dear' if you don't mean it. It's like lying."

Thank God that my own conversation is all over the place or I may well have found these seemingly random changes of topic a bit dizzying, Nicolas thought.  
>"What makes you think I don't mean it?"<p>

"I'm never dear."

He laughed but it was a friendly laugh, not meant to be mocking and condescending.

"You would be amazed what different ideas different people have of what is dear. For example, your dear cousin is dear to me indeed. And you two are surprisingly alike. So I may well find you dear as well."

She blinked at him in confusion.

"My cousin and I are not alike."

"Maybe you can't see it but I can definitely spot a few likenesses."

"Like what?"

"He doesn't like lying either. And he's rarely intentionally dear without a good reason."

She considered this for a long time before shrugging and skipping out of the room with barely as much as a goodbye. It seemed that some idea had taken over her little head.

Nicolas chuckled and shook his head. What a strange, strange child. A bizarre mix of childishness and maturity and mockery and dignity all in one. He discovered that evening that premeditation sometimes snuck up on you and sometimes, without warning, you started making plans.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Thanks to those who are reading and taking the time to comment – it's for you I'm writing.

**3.**

**Retention**

Breakfast was a curiously somber affair the next Tuesday after Adrien had announced he had found the time to make the trip to his parents' home. He glanced around the table. Nicolas was unusually quiet and looked thoughtful – not a particularly good sign. What his partner thought, he usually spoke before he had even finished the though so this silence was a little worrisome. The girl was also silent, but _quiet_ she was _not_. She dropped her fork on the floor four times. She kicked the table. She scraped at her plate and generally did her very best to annoy him.

"Eugenie-Aurorette, kindly stop begging for attention," he admonished her evenly when his patience was nearing its limit. "It's not impressive at all."

She glared at him, banged her fifth fork in her plate and ran out. He sighed, trying not to growl instead. He glanced at Nicolas to find him shaking his head at him with a bit of a crooked smile.

"What?"

"Easy, Apollo. She's nine. And she's not that bad."

"She is every bit that bad," Adrien said, sipping his coffee. "I'm even afraid to find out where's she's gone now and what damage she'll do. I could forgive it if it was accidental but she does it all on purpose."

"So, like you say, she's seeking attention. Don't you think she needs some?"

"Well, she'll receive plenty from my mother. Probably more than she needs."

There was a pause. Nicolas tapped his fingers on the table thoughtfully.

"She is your relative," he said finally. "And if she will be living with your parents, she will almost qualify as your little sister. Perhaps you should get to know her better."

"I think I know enough."

"It's not good to part on bad terms. Give it a little more time, you'll start liking her."

"A _girl child_. Two things I do not get along with."

"Nonsense, you like children."

"Some children. A child who attempts to always be the center of attention and annoys me on purpose? I doubt we'll like each other very much."

Nicolas smirked.

"Let's see now, why does this sound like a description of someone I know. You learned to like me."

Adrien gave him a flat look. "Barely. And, believe me, one of you is more than enough." He sighed at the look Nicolas gave him. "Forgive me, that sounded a lot worse than I intended. I simply think the sooner I get the child to my parents, the better."

"What if _I_ want to get to know her?"

Adrien raised his eyebrows slightly. "Have you not had enough of her? I was actually worried about making you endure her at home."

"She doesn't bother me. She can be entertaining."

Adrien surveyed him suspiciously.

"You want her to stay," he said suddenly.

Nicolas blinked. "Well, I thought I made it clear that in my opinion you should…"

"No," Adrien interrupted him, "you're actually thinking she could stay here! Is that it?" Nicolas hesitated a second too long and Adrien groaned. "No, this is too much even for you! This is a child, not a toy!"

Nicolas blinked. "I'm well aware she's not a toy..."

"Is it the company? I could stay home more but you said you preferred me to work."

"Of course I prefer you to work! It's not that."

"My mother is expecting her and she is actually very excited to have a child around her again! Keeping her here would be selfish, foolish and…"

Nicolas raised his hands. "Hey, hold on! I know, all right! If nothing else, I know I'm no company for a little girl and she'll be much better off with your family. All I'm saying is, perhaps she should stay a little longer. Why is that such a bad idea?"

"It is better for her to get settled in a new home as quickly as possible, rather than staying in a temporary one, isn't that true?"

"Well… I suppose," Nicolas admitted.

"Besides, she doesn't even like us."

"You don't know that."

"Oh, forgive me, I must have been led to think so by the screams of 'I hate you' I hear on daily basis."

Nicolas rolled his eyes. "Adrien, come on… A few more days. I like her. She's interesting to talk to."

"No."

"Please."

"You'll see her when we go to visit."

"God knows when and how we'll manage to get me there in this thing."

"Well, hopefully by then we'll have gotten rid of this thing."

Nicolas groaned and covered his face.

"Please, not that argument again…"

Adrien crossed his arms and considered him for a few moments.

"All right, here's the deal," he said finally. "One extra day for every step you take in front of me. Otherwise we're leaving tomorrow."

Nicolas removed the hand in order to stare at him in surprise.

"That's blackmail! I never thought I'd see you do it!"

"Blackmail? I see it as motivation. You want something? Fight to get it."

"Adrien, it is a ridiculous offer."

"It's the only one you'll get."

"You're serious."

"Absolutely."

A pause, then a deep sigh.

"Fine."

Adrien blinked, not actually expecting that. "F- Really?"

Nicolas spread his arms and shrugged. Then he braced himself on the armrests of the chair and slowly pushed himself up, grimacing. It was scary how hard it looked to even get upright and Adrien didn't realize he had stood up himself and was holding his breath until it started hurting and he was forced to let it out and take another. He had seen injured men before, attempting to use their limbs, and never batted an eyelash but now… He didn't know why it was affecting him so much – perhaps because it was the man he loved and perhaps because at the back of his mind a part of him still believed his lover's condition was his fault.

Nicolas bit his lip, made a single step and clutched the table to keep himself upright.

"Display enough for you?" he gritted out. Only then did Adrien unfreeze. He crossed the small space between them and caught the other man just when his arms seemed about ready to give way. As he was helping him sit back down, he heard the door clicking shut and hurried little steps in the hallway.

"Great, now she's spying on us," he muttered.

Nicolas leaned back looking a little exhausted.

"It's a free-access room, Adrien, not a secret revolutionary headquarters. She's not forbidden to come here." He paused. "Not a pretty picture, was it?"

Adrien ignored the sardonic smile and kissed his palm. "I love you."

Nicolas chuckled. "The perfect way out of any difficult topic."

Adrien sighed and moved to sit on the armrest of the heavy chair.

"I'm not avoiding the topic. That statement was simply short for: I know how hard that was, you are amazing and thank you. As for how pretty the picture was, I found it very pretty and it will get prettier."

"It bothered you."

"It bothers me to see you in pain. It will stop bothering me as it gets easier."

"It's not getting easier."

"It will."

"It…"

"Shhh! Enough of that. Well done. You get one extra day with the little beast as promised." He kissed his forehead. "And I'm late."

As he stood up, there was a crash from the hallway. Adrien groaned, straightened his waistcoat and headed for the door with a sigh.

"I love you too," Nicolas muttered.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **To be honest, this just had to finally be posted before it got mouldy, otherwise I'm not entirely happy with it but sometimes you just have to move on.

**4.**

**Cleanliness**

By the time Adrien came home that night, it was already very dark and pouring. He and Prouvaire had been helping Combeferre in his efforts to reform the educational system and all three had gotten so caught up today that they had lost track of time. It was a very pleasant state to be in so he wasn't sorry but he was now looking forward to being back home and sharing the day's progress with Nicolas. He would have taken him along but his partner had volunteered to make sure Eugenie did not set the house on fire.

He went through the garden gate and started up the path, eager to get out of the rain, before something made him stop. There was light coming from the open pavilion on the other side of the garden. He squinted to see better. Perhaps someone had just left a lit lamp there for whatever reason. Or was it possible that the girl had slipped out of her room and was up to some mischief at this late hour?

He went to investigate and not only did he find a lit lamp there but along with it, he found one Nicolas Grantaire, reading a book in his chair. There was also a bundle of blankets on top of a – was this a mattress? – at his feet, vaguely shaped as a little girl. Adrien stepped under the roof and into the flickering circle of light created by the lamp and stared his lover down, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. Nicolas put a finger to his lips with a quick glance at the impromptu bed and the child sleeping in it.

"What, pray tell, are you both doing outside during a storm?" Adrien asked in a whisper, not sure if he was angry or merely astonished. Even in the scarce light he could still see Nicolas smirk.

"It's not like you to exaggerate," the other man answered in the same quiet tone. "We are not entirely outside if we are under a roof and a 'storm' is a little too generous a description for the weather tonight. Perhaps 'heavy rain' would be more fitting."

"Very well. What are you and my cousin doing under a roof but not inside four walls in the heavy rain after dark?" Adrien rephrased patiently. "I don't suppose the staff finally had enough of you both and threw you out?"

Nicolas chuckled quietly and shrugged.

"Our dear Rorette got it into her head that she wanted to sleep outside. I think she finds it exciting. It's not harming anyone so I couldn't think of a reason to say no."

Oh, no, Adrien thought, he has started giving her pet names. He disagreed with all three words – 'our', 'dear' and 'Rorette'.

"I knew I shouldn't have given the two of you an extra day," he muttered.

Nicolas rolled his eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous. What's the problem? She's all wrapped up so she should be warm enough and even if she catches a bit of a cold I doubt she'll die from it. And…" A tiny smile appeared on his lips that told Adrien he was almost certainly going to lose this argument. "You have done the same thing."

"What thing?"

"Sleeping outside in the rain. On a balcony. When you were a boy. You've told me."

Adrien sighed.

"That was different. I had seen people outside. I wanted to know what it felt like. It's not supposed to be cozy."

"So if you think this arrangement is cozy, then why do you have a problem with it?"

"Do you intend to spend the night here?"

"I think so, yes. Just in case. You don't want to join the party?"

Adrien shook his head.

"You're both crazy. I'm going in to change, my clothes are wet."

"True, that's probably wise. Pity. Well, don't worry about us, we're all right." Nicolas picked his book up again and Adrien, hurried towards the house with a slightly exasperated 'goodnight'.

He really was soaked but he had to spend five more minutes reassuring the servant and the housekeeper that while yes, M. Grantaire was a little insane sometimes, Adrien didn't think this latest escapade would have any serious consequences. He sent both of them to bed and went into his own bedroom to change.

Once in dry clothes, he peeked out the window where he could see part of the pavilion. The rain poured on and the light flickered on. Damn stubborn creatures. He smiled a little. Of course, he could not let Nicolas sleep in that chair. He would be so stiff in the morning that his legs would not be the only thing not working properly.

As he opened the window and leaned on it, Adrien had to admit there was something about the rainy night outside that appealed to him too.

Cleanliness.

He was reminded of how at the end of their recent adventure in the past, the rain had seemed to symbolize cleansing. It had seemed to wake them up from their dream-like routine, wash away the stagnation and restart their lives. Now he found the constant background noise of falling raindrops pleasantly distracting. Sometimes his thoughts had the annoying habit of running in circles in his head. The rain seemed to gently unfocus his mind for which he was currently glad.

A few minutes later Adrien dropped a second mattress and a few blankets on the floor of the pavilion opposite where Eugenie was sleeping and sat on top of them trying to ignore Nicolas grinning at him gleefully in the semi-darkness.

"What regular nine-year old girl decides she wants to sleep in the garden?" he asked in a whisper.

"Your question is irrelevant." Nicolas jerked his head in the direction of the sleeping child. "This one has never seemed particularly regular to me."

"And I suppose there's no use asking what regular grown man says yes to that."

Nicolas grinned.

"No, that would be just as irrelevant. But can I point out that you don't seem to be in bed either?"

"Oh, I am in a bed. Of sorts. The question is, why aren't you?"

Nicolas chuckled, heaved himself off the chair and used the bench and then Adrien's shoulder as support before dropping on the mattress next to him.

"So you have been tempted by the joys of camping?" Nicolas asked, swinging an arm around his shoulders.

Adrien smirked.

"No. By you." He kissed him lightly, making sure the girl was asleep and had her back turned to them. "They say home is where the heart is and I guess my bed is where you are."

Nicolas put a hand over his mouth to muffle laughter.

"Wise indeed."

They were silent for a while, listening to the rain. Adrien was watching the flickering of the lamp but when he turned to look at Nicolas, his partner's gaze was on the bundle of blankets and the few locks of brown hair visible beneath them.

"Why do you like her so much?"

Nicolas started a little and looked at him.

"I suppose… because we're the same age?"

Adrien smiled and pinched his arm playfully.

"Come on, I really want to know."

Nicolas glanced at the girl again.

"I guess… Because she's more like you than you realize and more like me than I would have wished her," he answered more seriously this time. "She's smart. But not cunning. If she was cunning, she would be playing the adorable little girl part and life would be much easier. But she can't pretend. Not to benefit from it. She is really more like you than you think, Adrien. The only thing she's trying to pretend is that she doesn't care because she thinks showing weakness is humiliating. Of course, she doesn't have the look of a sweet little princess either so maybe that tactic wouldn't work even if she tried. And... well, she seems to like me."

"I sort of like you too, you know. You're saying it like it's something exceptional."

"No…" Nicolas smiled and petted his hair. "No but she doesn't like everyone."

"True. I suppose if she did, she wouldn't have caused so much trouble in her previous home."

"They didn't want her."

"Did she tell you that? They didn't treat her badly and they gave her everything she needed. And they weren't cold to her at all! I know these people and they are perfectly kind. Do you know how many orphans still end up on the street despite our efforts to reduce the number?"

"She is a child, Adrien – she doesn't do statistics. And she comes from a rich family. She doesn't know about the streets. You could teach her if you feel inclined. But that's still not the point. You can't force a person to feel fortunate because someone else is objectively more unfortunate. All she knows is that she lost her parents and where she went was not her choice. And the people who took her in… They were nice people but they weren't hers, they didn't feel like she was theirs and it made her angry that she had to stay there. It's simple, really."

"No one is ever going to be her parents…"

"Yes and no. It's not about being the same people she lost. Like I said, she is a smart child, she knows that's impossible."

"Then what does she want?" Adrien asked, more interested than he had originally thought. He felt compassionate towards the child despite her bad temper but besides that, he hadn't really given her much thought so far. But he had slowly been getting more curious lately and not so much because of Eugenie herself but because of Nicolas. Everything that could get his partner speaking so determinedly, not to mention getting out of the chair and actually walking, was worth knowing about.

"She wants…" Nicolas hesitated. "She doesn't want a borrowed family. She wants people she belongs with. People that really want her and don't just not mind having her."

Adrien made no immediate response. He was thinking of Nicolas. In the past, Nicolas had often stated with a bit of a wry smile that he could not look through the young leader of the ABC's eyes. But the truth was that, especially in more recent years, Adrien had wondered just as often what it was like to see people as his lover did. To have an eye that spotted every imperfection and a mind that was able to turn even the most somber and dignified thing about them into a joke and to still be able to love so easily. He absently pulled his partner down, arranging himself on the mattress in a more comfortable position, pulled the blankets over them and wrapped his arms around him. He thought for a moment, got up and put out the light. The night was getting colder so he spread an extra blanket over the girl as well before returning to his place.

"You have a special talent, you know," he said quietly.

"Annoying you?" Nicolas muttered sleepily from beside him.

Adrien snorted.

"Yes, of course. No… You… look into people's hearts without even knowing you're doing it and then you find the very thing within them that's most worth loving, most unique, most part of their nature, and then you love them for that and not some superficial quality."

"Flatterer."

"How is that flattery?"

"I don't know exactly. But you manage to make me sound almost poetic which is no small feat."

"I'm just stating an observation."

"According to you though, I should have found some particular quality about you that seems best to me. That's a little… Can't I love you for more than one thing?"

Adrien chuckled.

"Can you find more than one thing to love me for?"

"Now you're just asking for compliments."

"I am not. But I said 'love me for'. Not qualities you admire or find useful or are not really part of who I am."

"All qualities you display are part of who you are. You are entirely incapable of artifice or deceit. It's quite reassuring once you get used to it."

"Well, I'm relieved to hear that." He paused. "You know I would do anything within reason to make you happy."

In the darkness he more felt than saw Nicolas smile that peculiar little smile which always looked like it was much bigger on the inside than on the outside.

"Within reason and sometimes without reason," he noted.

"But I cannot give you a little girl as a gift."

"Have I asked you to?"

"I can see you want her to stay…"

"Adrien… Unless you start wanting her to stay just as much there is no point in even thinking about it. And that can't happen by force."

"You got out of that thing." He indicated the chair. "Because of her. I couldn't make you and you got up because of her. Maybe… I don't know."

He felt his hair being tugged at gently.

"Please tell me you are jealous of a nine-year-old, that would be such a ridiculous way to compliment me," Nicolas begged in a whisper with a hint of laughter in his voice.

Adrien swatted his hand gently.

"Stop it, I'm serious."

"Adrien, it wasn't entirely because of her. Perhaps it was just time. And I thought you didn't want me to do it for anyone but myself."

"Of course! But if she is such a good influence I am sorry for having to take her away."

A light touch of lips on his palm.

"Don't bother yourself. There has never been a person in my life who has been a better influence than you. And neither her life nor yours should be about me."

"I know but…" He smirked. "Won't you fight me about this? It will make it much easier to see I'm right."

Nicolas buried his face in his shoulder to stifle another laugh.

"That's evil. You'll have me fight you just to lose? Shame on you. You have lost all of your morals lately. First blackmail, now this… I knew I was a bad influence on you."

Adrien snorted but didn't answer. He listened to the rain again. The world seemed so alive and yet it was like they were the only people in it. He closed his eyes and let the gentle noise fill his head and soon there was nothing but cleanliness. Fresh and warm and white. On this blank sheet of paper when answers appeared, they would be easy to see.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Hey, look, it's alive! This fluffy little OOC tale has been on the back burner for quite a long time now but even though it's kind of trashy and a guilty pleasure, I figured it's fun enough to continue. Thanks for the wonderful reviews which are directly responsible for prompting me to update. That and the fact that I don't like leaving stuff unfinished. Enjoy!

**5.**

**Winning**

"I want to stay with you!"

The screams and tears had been going on for at least half an hour now. Eugenie had latched onto Nicolas and refused to let go. Nicolas himself petted her hair, not meeting Adrien's eyes. Adrien himself was standing by the door with a suitcase and a smaller travel bag at his feet. He glanced at the clock again.

"We are going to be late."

Nicolas sighed and detached her gently so he could look at her.

"All right. I'll miss you too but it's time for you to go."

She looked back at him and behind the tears, Adrien thought he saw accusation. Completely undeserved, he thought, especially after Nicolas had gone out of his way to bend to her caprices.

"I thought you wanted me to stay."

Another sigh from Nicolas. "I will miss you. I told you that. But you will be better off with Adrien's parents. You'll like it there."

"No, I won't!"

"You said you hated it here at first."

"I still hate it here but I want to stay with you. Why can't I stay in Paris?"

"There is no one to take care of you in Paris."

"There's you! But you don't want to!"

"I do want to. But I can't."

"Why not?"

Another sigh, this one even bitterer. "Because _I_ need taking care of."

"I can do that."

Nicolas chuckled. "Thank you, kid but Adrien is not doing a bad job of it. However, I'm afraid it will be too difficult for him to manage two of us. Do you want me to go away so he would have his hands free?"

Adrien rolled his eyes. "Now that is a horrifying prospect for both her and me, I'm sure."

Eugenie balled her fists. She had apparently run out of screams because when she spoke next, it was quietly. "He doesn't want me here and that's why you're sending me away. Because you'll always do what he says. Because he's yours and I'm not." She made a few steps backwards and then ran out of the front door.

"For God's sake, one would think we are sending her to her death," Adrien muttered, hating the painful grimace on his partner's face.

"Don't judge her too harshly," Nicolas said quietly, looking thoughtfully at his hands. "I know what it is like to feel like you never come first."

"I hope this isn't a remnant of the old you versus the republic argument. I thought we had established that that one did not have a default answer, that it depended on too much and the things were not comparable."

Nicolas shook his head. "No… And I don't mean now. In the past. Not necessarily you. I just understand how she feels. I was, admittedly, never brave enough to challenge people with it."

"She will forget she's angry quickly enough. Lord, I don't appreciate being painted as the villain all the time! My parents are perfectly good people. What better place could I send her to?"

"I know. And you really are late. Go after her before she decides to go off somewhere on her own. I will see you later."

Adrien picked up the luggage and hurried outside to find that – to his relief – she was waiting by the fence. She did not say a single word as he herded her towards the place from where their coach was to leave but she did make use of the puddles the rain had helpfully created during the night. Every puddle. The child just had to walk into every single one. While Adrian had himself always been a rebel, pointless and silly forms of rebellion had always angered him.

"You should have said goodbye to Nicolas," he ventured rather sternly. He was finding it difficult not to be stern with her. She didn't answer. "You hurt his feelings."

"I hate him."

"That's completely unfair."

"I don't care. Why should I like him? He doesn't. If he really liked me, he would have kept me. You can't order him around, he's a grownup."

"He can't legally keep you unless I allow him to so if you have to blame someone, blame me."

"He didn't even argue."

Adrien suppressed a small groan. "Because he wants what's best for you. He really believes this is for the best. Can you blame him for that?" He stopped and looked at her. "Do you know, you remind me of him a lot sometimes. You are completely infuriating and half the time I find it very difficult to be anything but cross with you. I try to make sure you are taken care of and you do all you can to foil me. But the difference is that he never walked around insisting he hated everyone."

"I wish I was his cousin and not yours!"

"I thought you said you hated him."

Silence. And then the girl was crying again. No screaming this time, just a pair of arms crossed tightly in front of her chest and lanky hair hanging in muddy brown eyes glaring at the distance. Adrien sighed and put the suitcase down.

"Eugenie, I have no wish to be a jailor. I don't think you understand how complicated things are. But very well, for the sake of personal freedom, since you have made your choice about not wanting to go, I cannot force you into it. Many children your age have to make even more important choices. Life and death choices. But be aware that you are then responsible for the consequences. I predict that you will soon find things won't be like you imagine them and you will realize going to my parents is the better option. Perhaps it would be best to let you see that for yourself." And Nicolas, too, he added mentally. No response. The girl kept staring at nothing. "I am willing to take you back," he repeated. "I will not drag a crying child with me all the way to my hometown. Unless you have changed your mind about going, turn around now and walk back."

There was a long moment of hesitation before she finally turned around. She shuffled along him without a word all the way back with little indication that she was happy about this development.

Nicolas looked up from the sheets in his lap startled when the two of them walked back into the house. Adrien dropped the suitcase on the floor and spread his arms in a gesture of surrender.

"Still willing to put up with her?"

Nicolas looked stunned for a moment before breaking into a grin. "I think I would probably manage."

And then Eugenie surprised them both by bolting for her room and slamming the door. The two exchanged confused looks before Adrien went over to knock.

"Eugenie? Care to tell us what your problem is now, young lady?"

The door opened a tiny crack. "If he only let me go before because he thought it was best for me, he wouldn't be happy now that I'm back! He only does everything for you and he's only glad I'm back because he thinks I'm funny but I don't matter that much!" She slammed the door shut again and locked it.

Adrien dragged a palm down his face in a rather unusual for him display of exasperation and walked back to his partner who had dropped his head in his hands. He sighed and bent down to kiss Nicolas's forehead. "This child is the devil."

**End Note:** So… Since your reviews did such a wonderful job of making me write this even though I had lost the incentive for a while, maybe you would like to try the same trick again and see when we might get another chapter. (:


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Here we are – another installment since people seem to be enjoying this fic. I still say there are better things out there but as long as you're having fun I'll update. We might actually be quite near the end. Can't be sure exactly how near in terms of chapters but quite.

**6.**

**Love, part 1**

"How long do you plan on continuing this?"

Nicolas turned in his chair to look at a mildly exasperated Adrien Enjolras leaning on the railing of the stairs.

"Until it works or I lose hope that it will." He threw the small wooden ball he had been holding. It hit the door in front of him with a resounding bang and rolled back to his feet. Nicolas bent down and picked it up again.

"For God's sake, man! I don't know about her but you'll drive _me_ crazy. You have been doing this for twenty minutes. Aren't even you irritated by now?"

Nicolas shrugged. "You're about to leave for work so you'll stop hearing it. And I don't get easily irritated."

"No arguing with that or you would not be so in love with the little devil," Adrien muttered.

Nicolas tilted his head and smiled. "You like her too."

"As much as I like any child. Not enough to sit in the hallway in the draft and throw a ball at her door all morning in the hopes that she will eventually be frustrated enough to come out. You could just wait for her to get hungry enough. I'm sure she's not stubborn enough o starve herself."

"That's cheating. And I wouldn't count on it."

Adrien raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "You are both insane. I don't understand why she is angry at you _or_ why you are so upset by it _or_ why on earth you have to try to get her attention as if you were her age."

Nicolas gave him an amused look. "Perhaps I am. Listen. We hurt her. Perhaps not on purpose but we did. What child wants to be constantly moved around against her will, never knowing where she will end up next, only relying on what little charity people have to give for a limited amount of time?"

"She is back here, is she not? We did as she wanted and look how she is thanking us."

Nicolas shook his head. "You did as she wanted but only after she cried and insisted and no one wants to feel like they have gotten a place in someone's home by bargaining and making a fuss. She is convinced you don't want her at all. As for me – she will not forgive me easily for not taking a stand for her. She is testing us. She has no reason yet to be good to us. She is, like every other person, looking for love and you know what love involves. It means showing interest, not just leaving things the way they are. Not taking the easy way. Right now, at this moment, she needs to be taken seriously. Waving her anger off as some childish display and waiting until it passes is not going to do."

"I don't see that you did anything wrong."

"I did. I did something you always berate me for. I didn't make up my own mind. And aren't you two so much alike? Nothing angers you more than when I display lack of character. Go on now, you'll be late. Let us children sort ourselves out."

Adrien crossed over. "I have to get you back downstairs first. Simon isn't here yet." He made to take hold of the handles of the wheelchair but Nicolas caught his hand and kissed it.

"Simon can do that when he shows up. Isn't that why you hired him? To carry me up and down stairs and bring tea? And you keep trying to usurp his job. Let me be horribly annoying for a while more. It did eventually work on you."

"No, it didn't. You being brilliant and right did."

"Well… You were not nine."

Adrien snorted. "So you are telling me poor Simon will have to listen to a ball hit a door at regular intervals until he can't stand it anymore and he comes and punches you. And I won't blame him at all. In fact, I should give him the day off and let you stay up here until I come home."

"Brilliant! How hasn't it occurred to you earlier? If you had done that, the whole plan with having us sleep on the second floor to make me want to walk may have worked. But when the problem of movement between floors is easily overcome by me calling a servant…"

Adrien swatted him. "The day I see you climb down these stairs on your own will be one of the happiest in my life but despite what you say, I am not quite prepared to resort to torture to achieve my ends. Unlike you, evidently." He gestured at the ball. "But I don't know why Simon is late today or when he will come. Suppose something has happened and he doesn't?"

"Then I will ask Rorette to fetch me food and if she doesn't, I will tragically starve to death. Come now. I'm sure Simon will be here any minute. I am a grown man, or at least about twe thirds of one. I can survive for a bit on my own."

Adrien sighed. "Very well then. Have fun, you and your door. I'll see you tonight."

After the front door had closed after him, Nicolas threw the ball again. It had started chipping at the paint a little. This time, after a pause, the door opened a crack and a scowling little face showed up, framed by brown hair. Nicolas beamed.

"Ah, good morning, mademoiselle! I see you have at least decided to get out of your sleeping gown."

Eugenie glared. "Stop banging on the door."

"Go have breakfast."

"I don't want to."

"Yes, you do. You skipped dinner yesterday too because you wanted to pout. Why did you come back here if you plan on being like this?"

"I wouldn't have been like this if you hadn't been so happy to see me back."

"You honestly wanted me to be unhappy that you did not leave?"

"Why did you agree to let me leave?"

Nicolas sighed. "I thought it was for the best."

"For whom?"

"For everyone. For you."

"Then coming back is not for the best which means you're happy for something which isn't good for me! It has nothing to do with me, does it? You're just happy with whatever he says!"

"Eugenie… I understand why you are angry. But I am certainly not happy with whatever Adrien says. If you don't believe me, just ask him. I put a lot of value in what he says because he is a smart, reasonable man who can usually tell what the right thing is better than I can. I trust his judgment, that doesn't mean I am always happy with it. I was not happy to see you go but I was happy when he changed his mind about that. I am sorry I did not figure out on my own that would feel better here than with his parents, despite the fact that there is no woman here who could be a mother to you and both him and I are rather peculiar men not particularly suited to raising a little girl. I understand now that we should have tried harder before deciding we knew better than you did. Now if you want to stay here in the long run you could try to be a little more agreeable."

"I'm never agreeable! That's why my aunt and uncle wanted to get rid of me. And then you. There's no point! You'll let me stay for a while and then say that 'it isn't working' and 'you can't provide the care I need' and 'I would really be happier somewhere else'. And then you'll send me away just like they did. I don't want to go live with my cousin's parents and I don't want to live with you! I don't want to live with any stupid people anymore! I'll live on my own on the street and become a pickpocket!"

Nicolas had started chuckling at the idea when the door opened fully and Eugenie came out, dragging her travel bag with her. His eyebrows shot up as she quickly stomped past him.

"Where do you think you're going, young lady?"

"Wherever _I_ pick this time and you don't get a say in it!"

He realized if he didn't stop her now she could easily get out on the street and get herself in trouble. He rolled after her and grabbed her hand just as she reached the edge of the stairs. That was a mistake. She tried to pull free and he moved instinctively, his second hand leaving the wheel it had been holding. The wheelchair tipped over the edge.


End file.
